


Insanity

by Gray_Skies_Rising



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: ? - Freeform, AU, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Kinda, No editing we die like mne, Not Canon Compliant, author has no clue what they are doing, rated T for trash mouth, references to past violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23212639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray_Skies_Rising/pseuds/Gray_Skies_Rising
Summary: Insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.Einstein, if he wasn’t mistaken.That’s exactly what he was doing. The same fucking thing over and over again, expecting something to change.Making Bruce choose between his rules and the lives of his sons would always end the same way. Maybe Jason wasn’t the only one who was insane.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> This idea snuck up on me at one in the morning and refused to leave. It is now three. Sorry if this makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.
> 
> Warnings: referred past violence, mentions of suicide, Jason’s potty mouth
> 
> Please tell me if I missed any!

Jason tensed as a noise came from his bedroom. Specifically, the creaking of bedsprings.

Slowly he rises from the couch, hand wrapped around the gun in his belt, and quietly makes his way to the bedroom door.

He pushes it open.

A sharp intake of breath.

Disbelief.

Disbelief in what, or rather who, was laying in the middle of his bed.

Tim was wrapped in a fluffy blue blanket. Sluggishly Jason realized that it was the blanket he kept folded at the end of his bed. He didn’t even entertain the thought of taking it from him, still fixated that he was here.

After everything he had done.

As if Jason hadn’t nearly killed the kid several times. As if nearly slitting someone’s throat meant nothing. As if the past had disappeared. As if he didn’t flinch every time Jason moved just a little too fast or in the wrong direction.

He was still there. The fucking idiot.

He sighed and let his hand fall from the handle of his gun. He was in no danger now. He would be the only one to leave the apartment unscathed.

Using his other hand, he pulled the door closed. He then rested his head against the door and let out a breath that ended in a dry chuckle.

How did he manage to reduce him to this? How did the replacement make him so fucking complacent? He was letting Tim sleep in his bed without even trying to take a shot for goodness sake! How did he make Jason feel so sane?

No.

He knew what the pits did to you. He knew he was insane. He knew there was no cure for insanity. Except, maybe a bullet to the brain.

Insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.

Einstein, if he wasn’t mistaken.

That’s exactly what he was doing. The same fucking thing over and over again, expecting something to change.

Making Bruce choose between his rules and the lives of his sons would always end the same way. Maybe Jason wasn’t the only one who was insane.

Body =/= Mind.

Out of everything, that is what he learned. Not that it mattered.

The cycle would repeat.

And repeat.

AND repeat.

AND REPEAT.

AND

REPEAT

A N D

R E P E A T

A  
N  
D

R  
E  
P  
E  
A  
T

A

N

D

R

E

P

E

A

T

Someone, it didn’t matter nor could he remember who, once told him all pain had an end. Even if that end was death.

He’s already died once and didn’t particularly feel like going back for second helpings.

A circle has no end and no beginning.

It was simply a cycle to be repeated.

A cycle always repeats.

A blip in the track means nothing.

He’s back on the couch again, mindlessly channel surfing. Unaware that he even moved in the first place.

The bedroom door creaks.

He doesn’t look up.

The rustling of fabric against fabric, the bastard probably still had the blanket on.

His eyes refuse to drift from the maroge of colors that flickered across the old television.

There was a fuzzy blue figure in his peripheral.

He clicks a button on the remote and a rerun of a childhood cartoon appeared on the screen.

“Move.”

At this he does look. He then proceeded to raise an eyebrow as he took in the hard set of Tim’s mouth and the sharpness of his eyes. He did not look like someone who just woke up from a, albeit short, nap.

He looks pointedly to either side of himself, where the other two cushions were currently unoccupied.

Tim huffed, rolling his eyes.

Tim quickly reaches out and shoves him backwards, surprising him into complacency. He then proceeded to crawl into Jason’s lap and rest his head against his shoulder. His hands bunched the fabric of Jason’s nightshirt.

If he had had a sane person's mindset he might have thought of a child coming to a parent for comfort after a nightmare.

But alas, Jason was far from sane.

If someone were to ask him if he regretted torturing Tim, he would answer with a resounding, ‘Nope’. He might even add a snort and a cocked eyebrow as if to ask the person if they were really asking that question.

Tim snuggled deeper into his chest and muttered, “Put your arms around me, bitch. I don’t want to fall off your lap but, I also don’t want to be clutching your shirt for the entirety of my nap.”

He couldn’t stop the snort that escaped him.

So, no, he did not currently regret torturing the replacement.

Tim shifted again, clearly getting impatient. Slowly Jason brought his arms around him, securing the kid onto his lap.

But maybe, someday, he would.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo..... I don’t really think this is done but I also have no motivation to finish it. Having said that, I am perfectly fine if you guys want to take it and mess with it as long as you credit me.


End file.
